Monthly Archive for August, 2006

Page 3 of 8

Angry Today

Published on August 22, 2006 in Mental Health. 2 Comments

I am just angry today…short fuse, heart ache angry…on the verge of tears angry. I’m still struggling with my grandfather I think. I’m just pissed.

I’m angry because I haven’t told Blossom to go away yet. I’m angry. I’m pissed, just pissed. I’m tired of nightmares too.

Little Knock Kneed Aussie

Published on August 22, 2006 in For the Record and Pets. 1 Comment

I am pleased to say that Bella’s prayers were answered. She has not only grown into her eyes but also her ears. Now if we could just do something about her bigger than life attitude. She is getting so big. It was just yesterday that she was trying to nurse off of Gracie’s non-lactating teats. Literally yesterday she tried to nurse from Gracie. Grace use to let her pretend to nurse when she was knee high to a grasshopper but now that she’s much older (by several weeks) Grace has decided it’s time to stop the charade. There was never any milk kid, you’ve gotta come to grips with reality now.

Cap just kinda tolerates her. I can’t say he likes her much but he does tolerate her. Gracie and I kinda like her. All three are sleeping right now but uh, nope, not me. I’m up doing silly art pictures of little knock kneed me. I am bored beyond bored. I should be in bed because I have to get up and renew my driver’s license tomorrow.

Last night was a hard night, another one of those sit straight up in bed kinda nightmare nights. I dread lying down again. I was on the love seat not in the bed but I still sat straight up. It would be safe to say that I’m putting off sleep. It doesn’t do any good because the longer I stay up the more anxious I get.

I’m supposed to go to a therapy group for 15 weeks. That’s a heck of a long time. I’m worried about transportation and about comfortably being able to bring Captain. I know legally I can but are people going to freak out because of his size? It’s clear across town in the evening for an hour and a half. I’m trying to come up with some sort of reason not to commit to this. Fifteen weeks, clear across town kinda scares me a bit…okay, a lot.

Blah,

Me

Don’t Pull The Plug

Published on August 21, 2006 in For the Record and Humor. 6 Comments

Due to the amount of spam on this entry all comments are closed. I apologize for the inconvenience.I think I had another PC burp. Several people didn’t get emails that I sent out on the 18th. This got me thinking about my PC addiction (Enigma shares this addiction too she told me so.) I was just thinking that if this PC ever stopped I think I’d be over the edge for good. DAMN IT I survived my mother just to have my HP die like that? I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. It’s sad really, to have my whole life on this machine. On windows XP they have you name your computer. Well, I named it Aussie’s Life Machine. I wish they’d given me a heads up that they would add a few words to that. Here is what my PC says when I go to turn it off

Aussie Unplugged

Is that really necessary? I mean come on! This is just wrong, wrong, wrong! I feel I should have been warned that they would add words to my machine’s name. I would have chosen something a little less…permanent.

Aussie

Due to the amount of spam on this entry all comments are closed. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Blossom The Borderline Bigot: Part 1 of 2

Published on August 20, 2006 in Relationships, Segments, Soapbox and Stupid People. 2 Comments

Blossom The Borderline Bigot: Part 1 of 2 -Saturday, August 19, 2006-10:59AM EST

 

Let me define the borderline bigot. A borderline bigot is any person of any race that makes insensitive comments about another race. They don’t even have to say it in the company of that specific race but it’s even worse when they do. I don’t think of this person as a racist or an extreme bigot because they don’t go around like a hate filled beast spreading destruction in the name of their broken lord (broken lord as opposed to the true loving God). The B.B. type will make racial jokes (any race) or make some racially provocative statement then when you’re mad they respond with tears and spill a condescending lecture about how they aren’t prejudice. There are two main characteristics of a B.B. 1) insensitivity and 2) ignorance. They don’t seem to realize that they are being insensitive and they don’t seem to realize why it is that we are so upset when stuff like this comes up. Case in point:

I was on the phone with Blossom and D* was in the background at Blossom’s house. We were discussing an acquaintance that lost his cat whose name on paper is “little shit.” Blossom said, oh man that’s horrible. Well, D* said something in the background that I didn’t quite hear so I asked Blossom what she said. Blossom got quiet then said with a humor filled tone D*’s uncle named his cat the n-word. She said the actual word. I was furious and when I am furious I get very quiet. Do I expect that from D*? Sure the hell do but I do not expect it from Blossom. She went along with “the crowd” (who at the time was one person) even though what D* said was just wrong. D* has said that word to me more than once and I allowed her to live. I didn’t raise my fist and beat her into the ground. I’m sure some would say that wouldn’t solve anything but trust me, they would think twice before saying something like that again. D* is just prejudice but Blossom seems to be more of a borderline bigot. She’s the careless, insensitive type that when you get offended starts really acting hurt that you feel offended when you “know I’m not prejudice.” But see, she’s the same person that made an Aunt Jamima joke one time then another time she said the hat I had on made me look like I should be out in a cotton field. When she said those things she gasped like, “Where did that come from?” She is a person that makes racial slurs without even thinking about how hurtful they are but I’m suppose to pat her back as she balls her eyes out apologizing for hurting me. Even if she “didn’t mean to hurt me” it doesn’t mean it no longer hurts because “she didn’t mean to.” If someone steps on your toe and then does the common “I am so sorry” does that take away the pain? No, your toe still throbs, the pain is still there and it’s real even though the toe was not targeted for a good smashing. Just because a person say’s I didn’t mean to IT DOES NOT MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY.

I gotta take a breather here. Besides, I’m tired. I need to sleep.

Austin


The Borderline Bigot: Part 2 of 2

Published on August 20, 2006 in Borderline Personality Disorder, Mental Health, Relationships, Segments and Soapbox. 2 Comments

Last night when I was dead silent on the other end of the phone Blossom she said to D*, “she hung up on me.” Then I heard her start wailing. She then hung up the phone. I called right back and D* answered the phone with Blossom wailing in the background. Wailing is not an exaggeration. Remember the movie “The Greatest Story Every Told” where Mary is leaning over Jesus’ dead body crying and mourning the loss of her child? That is truly the kind of wailing that Blossom was doing last night. The girl cried so hard that both D* and I were taken aback. I think my response was supposed to be, “stop crying, I know you didn’t mean it this time or the two times you made some racial slur, everything is okay.” Well, I didn’t. I asked her why she was crying like that. She said it was because, “because I love you so much.” And that she never, ever wanted to hurt or offend me. At that point I heard her become a potential maniac or someone that would commit suicide because you told them you didn’t want to be friends anymore. I was shocked as hell that the n-word even came out of her mouth but I was just plain disturbed by her sobbing reaction to me being upset.

The conversation ended by me telling her that I needed to go. She said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” That time I really did hang up first.

The level of anger and disappointment I feel right now has flamed right into self loathing. I am angry at myself because I should have told this bitch to leave me alone along time ago. Why don’t I? Because I’m lonely, that’s why. Is that an excuse? It’s the only one I have. So, the girl constantly reminds me of my faults, brings up the whole weight issue (hers, her daughters, her friends kids, etc.) nit picks about my cats THEN uses the n-word but lonely me hasn’t had enough yet. At this point I’ve offended myself because I haven’t told her to leave me alone. So I have a decision to make, will I keep letting her hurt me or will I stand up for myself and tell her to never come around here or call me again? Will I keep being offended and hurt or will I practice what I preach and realize my self worth and tell her to leave me alone?

I’m tired of her crying at the drop of a hat. She burned a cig hole in the floor on the restroom because for some reason she was smoking while taking a (insert that cat’s name) and dropped the cig on the floor. She came out of the restroom so upset. I was like, big deal Blossom. I don’t have a major issue with one barely noticeable mark. The way she was talking it was some gaping hole that the cats could fall through. What the hell were you smoking? Her reply was, “I was about to break into tears.” I knew then that a lot of her crying is manipulative and a source of distraction so that the perceived bad isn’t focused on but her lack of emotional control is.

Here is a side note: Slurs against any race, against men or women and racial jokes will get you banned from ever commenting on this journal again. As a matter of fact WordPress has a place where we can put “blacklisted” words and email addresses. I have included all major racial slurs are on that list. Racial slurs to Black, White, Asian, Arab, Jewish and the like have all been blocked. So when people act stupid and use one of those words or any form of it the comment never makes it on the journal. It is immediately deleted. It doesn’t even go into the moderation box or the spam box. It is tossed in the trash where it belongs. It should be this easy in life, to just blacklist people and feel no sorrow or guilt about it.

Joan of Arc

Blossom The Borderline Bigot: Part 2 of 2 -Sunday, August 20th, 2006-1:43AM EST

I’m sorry but….

Published on August 19, 2006 in For the Record. 5 Comments

I HATED THAT OTHER TEMPLATE.

I JUST HATED IT. I got so many complements on it that I felt bad about changing it but dang that was just ugly. I couldn’t take the ugliness any longer and I ….I trashed it, stomped on it and spit on it. I HATED IT. I think I made that clear though.I could not open my journal one more day and see the gray…well, ugliness anymore so it’s gone now. I can sigh with relief.

Joan

A Multiple’s Mirror

Published on August 19, 2006 in Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mental Health and Therapy. 3 Comments

A Multiple’s Mind-Saturday, August 19th, 2006- 5AM EST

I ran across the painting Private Perceptions on Keeper’s Korner just a bit ago . It’s one of those things ever multiple can relate to. When I look in the mirror I do not recognize myself. When I go in the restroom I keep my head down and avoid the mirror. When I wash my hands I keep my head down to avoid eye contact with whomever I’ll see today. The painting Private Perceptions is right on the mark as far as what a lot of multiples feel about looking in the mirror.

I once did a whole picture collage of the different me-plural’s. The people inside use to take a lot of pictures of themselves so that I could see them and know them. When I look at those photos I can tell who is who. I can see the face of the little ones and the face of the stronger ones, or the meek Maureen. It is odd to not know which image is truly yours. I also don’t like the fact that I can’t switch without notice. The look on my fact tells Blossom “who is out” at the moment. I can try and hide it all I want but my body language, my speech patterns, what I’m wearing won’t allow me to honestly say, “you’re wrong, I’m Austin.” I liked hiding. I do not like how more people can tell without me first spilling the beans. When my friend UK was told her response was, “Oh, I knew that” or something to that effect. I was like, damn, I use to be so good at hiding this. She’s not the only person that told me she knew before I told them. The funny thing is, I can spot a multiple a mile away. I can spot abuse survivors as easily as I spot sunflowers. We tend to have certain body languages that tell more than we want people to know. I suppose the same characteristics they display that identifies them to me are the same ones I display that identify me as one who lived through abuse.

My hands, I seem to take a lot of pictures of them too. It’s almost like they don’t belong to me. Like somehow they are separate from everything else. I don’t recognize them when I see them and often it catches me off guard. That feels really stupid when I jump because of a hand that is apparently mine. Whats worse is when I wipe my face and feel a slight uneasiness as my hand makes it’s way to my face. On one level I can say, this is my hand but on another it seems so foreign to me that I question where it came from. That must really sound odd, that sometimes (a lot) I don’t recognize my own body. The pictures I took of my hands were to get some sort of glimpse into ???? I don’t know what I was looking for. I did a lot of artwork with those pieces I know that much. One thing my hands are good for are the quick snack type fingernail munching I do when I’m nervous. Then they move to my hair and start twirling it. That’s what I did in therapy last week. I was so nervous I didn’t want to sit down. I paced for a second or two then plopped down on a very unfamiliar love seat. I’ve been to his office many times but each time I go it seems different. I forget what he looks like too. I don’t know him until I see him because I can’t picture his face. I sit through maybe the first 5 minutes trying to get myself to pull up the information from someplace just out of reach, “Is this guy my therapist? Just act like you know it and keep talking. My goodness I don’t remember the pattern on the love seat being so awful.” That’s not the last of the comments from the Peanut Gallery. Sometimes they’re just outright funny. Robert says that if he were a prehistoric bird he’d be a pterodactyl. He has such long arms that the wing span on him would be tremendous. Most of the time though, through out the session I just want to yell, “I’M SCARED!” but I can never muster the courage to say it. It feels like it would come out of my mouth like projectile vomiting.

Me

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